Normal's Travesty
by Bewittching
Summary: AU. Life was good for Harry Connor, until he found out he was adopted. Now his life is anything but normal. Especially when he finds out he's the supposedly dead savior of the Wizarding World.
1. Chapter One

A/N: Hi there people! Here's a new story for ya to read! Just for you information, I've set this story's timeline to present day. I know this should have happened in the '90s, but frankly, I don't remember the 90's all too well. Besides, my only expirience as a teenager has been in the 21st centuary. So in order for me to really capture the teenage expirience, I've decided to make it in present day terms.

This is my baby. I'm sick of reading stories where Harry never knows he's a wizard until he's older, but when he finds out, it's like "Oh. Man, am I powerful! This is so cool! I'm am totally fine with this! I am sooo accepting! I knew there was always something that made me different from everybody else!" I just don't think that's too realistic. I think he'd honestly be just another normal, sometimes stupid guy with the doubts and uncertainties that make us all human. So, this is my way of fighting back against those kind of fics. Hopefully, I'll end up spinning a nice little story - realistic, fun to read, and see some character progression and all that literary jazz. I'm seeing a trilogy in my future.

Disclaim Her: I don't own it. I don't own nothin. Not even the clothes on my back or the hair on my head. At least, that's what my philosophy text book is implying. But, yeah, if you recognize it, then I don't own it!

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Chapter One

"HARRY! Are you upstairs?"

The sudden noise startled him. Shit! His mom was coming up the stairs! He desperately looked around his parents bedroom. There were no hiding places! He ran into the bathroom, looking for something he could use to make up a good excuse as to why he was snooping around in his parent's bedroom. His eyes widened as they fell on his father's electric shaver. Perfect!

"Harry?"

He heard her knocking on his bedroom door across the hall.

"I'm in here Mom!"

He nervously waited for her to find him, while trying to act completely normal. Harry heard her bedroom door open.

His mother stopped abruptly in the doorway to her bathroom and stared at the sight before her. Raising an eyebrow, she casually leaned against the doorway, folding her arms.

"And just what do you think you are doing?"

Harry glanced over at her. "Well, don't you think that's obvious? I'm shaving."

His mother now had both eyebrows raised. "Shaving what? Built up skin particles? You might want to shave your feet then. I've noticed your getting calluses there."

Harry harrumphed, but turned off the shaver all the same. "I noticed I was starting to get a few whiskers, so I just borrowed Dad's shaver. I gotta stay fresh for the ladies, Mom."

"Hmm. Well, why don't you take your little fresh self out to the grocery for me. We've run out of milk, and I need eggs to bake your sister's birthday cake this afternoon."

Harry groaned. "Ever since I got a car, all you've done is demand I do things for you!"

He raised his voice an octave higher, imitating his mother. "Harry! Pick your sister up from soccer practice! Harry! Run this to the dry cleaners for me! Harry! Be a sweet and get me a sugar free, non fat vanilla latte from Starbucks! Geez Mom! I'm not your errand boy!"

His mother pursed her lips. "I seem to remember a young man begging his father for a brand new mustang convertible. I seem to remember that same young man telling his mother and father they'd never have to worry about running errands ever again because if said young man had a brand new mustang convertible, he'd run all the errands his parents could ever want."

Harry scowled. "Yeah, well that was before that alleged young man became disillusioned of the joy of driving. That young man found out convertibles get old after a while, and he hates people thinking he's bisexual whenever he orders such a girlie drink from a coffee shop."

"Oh honey! You're not bisexual! You were just influenced a little too much by your sister when you were little! We couldn't very well spank you for playing with her Barbie dolls, now could we?"

"Mom!"

His mother laughed, her blue eyes sparkling with joy at his indignant expression. She ruffled his hair, making it that much more messy. His mother had a peculiar sense of humor sometimes. Harry gave up acting affronted and smiled.

"So, eggs and milk, eh?"

His mother's smile grew. His smile dropped from his face.

"Well, I do have a list . . ."

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Harry slammed the door to his red mustang convertible. A list! And not just any old list, but a monstrous list, spanning over three sticky notes! He sighed, and reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a cigarette. He smirked to himself.

This was the real reason he had been in his parent's room. His father had a secret stash of cigarettes under the mattress. He had supposedly quit a few months ago. Only Harry knew his father's dirty secret, and that was great for him. Even if his father did figure out why he kept coming up short on smokes, he wouldn't tell Harry's mother. No need for her to know he really hadn't gone cold turkey.

His cell phone beeped. Someone had text him. He pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.

_U goin out 2nite_

It was from his best friend Richard, or as he liked to call him, Dick. Richard preferred you called him Rich, but Harry always tried to persuade others to call him Dick. Probably because when someone called to them, they'd say, "Hey Harry! Dick!" This was very amusing to Harry.

Harry text him back, saying he probably was, and that they should see if there were any good horror flicks playing. After all, his sister's family birthday party was tonight, and he could go out after dinner.

He got another message from Rich, who was going to Google up some movie times. Harry smiled, and turned his stereo up.

Maybe someone would be having a party later on. He'd tell his parents he'd be spending the night at Rich's house, and Rich would say he's spending the night at probably Deek's house, and then they'd stay out all night partying. Yeah, life was pretty good when your name was Harry Conner.

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"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Samantha! Happy Birthday to you!"

"And many more! You smell like a who-"

"HARRY!"

"Sorry Mom!"

Harry watched as his little sister blew out her candles. She turned 11 today. Harry pretended to wipe away a fake tear at the thought. It was getting harder and harder each year for Harry to bully her. She'd just bully right back nowadays, and sometimes she'd actually make Harry feel sorry for messing with her.

"Hey! I want the corner piece with lots of icing!"

His mother slapped Harry's hand away when he tried to finger the icing. "Stop it mister!"

Harry rolled his eyes and went to stand next to his dad. His father smirked at Harry, and when his mom was serving a piece of cake to Harry's older sister, Cecilia, his father swiped a finger-full of icing and stuck it in his mouth. Harry glared.

"Show off . . . " Harry muttered under his breath. His father grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Jack?"

Harry's dad looked apprehensively at Harry's mother.

"Yes dear?"

"I saw that."

Jack just stood there, trying to find the right words. He couldn't find them. "Oh."

"You're setting a bad example."

He still couldn't find them. "Oh. Sorry."

She glared at him and handed her husband a piece of cake.

Harry smirked as he gladly took the offered corner piece from his mom. There was some sweet satisfaction in seeing that his piece was a bit bigger than his dad's.

"So Mary, how goes the new painting? Making any headway?" asked Jack, trying to steer attention away from himself.

Harry's mother turned to him, a fork full of cake half way up to her mouth. She popped it in and nodded.

"I was working on it earlier this morning. I think I might have it finished by next week at the earliest."

Jack nodded, passing the pitcher of milk around the table to Samantha. Samantha took the pitcher and poured some milk into her glass. She slopped a little out onto the table, but the only one to notice was Harry. She blinked, looked around to see if anyone was watching her, and then wiped it down with the sleeve of her shirt. Harry snorted. That was an eleven year old for you. Never mind it was him who Samantha had first seen do that sort of thing, and not even a couple of months ago either.

"Did you sell any cars today?" asked Mary.

Harry's father nodded. "Yep, got eight out the door. Dan's going to be seeing a nice commission check this month. I remember when he started selling cars for me a month ago. He was worried he wouldn't make two grand this month. Hell, he's probably going to get a check for close near eight."

Harry smiled at the mention of Dan's name, and quietly sang to himself, "Dan Dan the Waffle Man!"

His mother frowned. "Oh Harry! If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all!"

Harry chuckled, but acquiesced all the same. He stopped talking.

Dan Pleghm had started working at his father's car dealership four months ago. When he discovered he was working just for commission, he had quit and taken a job as the night manager of Waffle House, making much more money than he had been trying to sell a car. But after being held at gun point buy a man wearing a Richard Nixon mask around four in the morning, Dan had decided that selling cars again probably wouldn't be such a bad idea.

After begging for his job back, Harry's dad gave it to him, and Dan's been selling the hell out of those cars ever since. That still didn't stop Harry from singing Dan Dan the Waffle Man to the tune of Bill Nye the Science Guy, much to the amusement of himself and his father. His mom didn't think it nearly so funny.

His mom, on the other hand, was an artist. She'd be contracted by different people to paint murals on walls, and other things like that. She also had some of her work hanging in a restaurant down town. It was quite popular. Since her husband made enough money owning his own car dealership, Mary didn't have to work. She had been an accountant before she had met Jack Connor, but with Jack making enough for the both of them, it gave her the time to pursue what she loved instead of crunching numbers.

"How are classes going?" Mary asked Cecilia.

"I'm kinda freaked out about summer school. I thought I could handle taking a math course this summer, but I can't seem to make myself concentrate in class," said Cecilia around a mouthful of cake.

Jack frowned. "Well, you better learn how to concentrate! If there was one thing my father always said, it was -"

"Education is the key to success in both your personal life and your professional life," echoed the Connor children.

Jack nodded appreciatively. "That's right! And don't you forget it!"

Harry rolled his eyes. His older sister was going to be a sophmore in college next year. She didn't know what she wanted to do yet, but she did want to go ahead and get her math requirements out of the way. She was attending the community college in town during the summer and then going to the state school in the fall. She was planning on staying with her boyfriend during the summer, but when their mom had found out about his "past criminal activity," as she called it, she refused that Cecilia could see him or else she'd stop sending money every week during college. Cecilia was pissed. She didn't think it was such a big deal that her boyfriend, Spunk, had stolen a car before. That was before he got rid of his nose rings, grown his hair out of a mohawk, and gone to college. However, he still had his tongue ring, but Cecilia wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Her parents would never know, and next year she'd introduce him by his given name, Clarence. They wouldn't know he was the same guy.

Harry, on the other hand, had just finished his junior year of high school and was an up and coming senior. The only thing Harry really liked about school was his friends, the girls, and football. Grades took backseat next to them, but he never really had any trouble with school work. Football was his love though. Sure, he wasn't all that tall, and he wasn't all that strong looking, but he could out run anyone on any of the closest five counties' football teams.

"Hey! Ain't I gonna get some presents here?" squeaked Samantha. Her mother winced as if she'd been physically slapped. Mary's mother had been an English teacher, as had Mary's grandmother. Bad grammar sounded like nails on chalk board to her.

"It's 'aren't' Samantha! And if you keep saying that infernal word, you won't be seeing any tonight!" screeched their mother.

Samantha gave a long suffering sigh. "Aren't I going to get my presents soon?"

"Sure sweetcake! Let's go see what Daddy's got in the trunk of his car, hmm?" said Jack, standing up and leading his youngest outside.

Cecilia suddenly jumped up out of her chair. "Oh! I just remembered! I have a paper due tomorrow! Excuse me!"

She ran up the stairs to her room.

Harry growled and shouted after her, "YOU DON'T WRITE PAPERS AFTER YOUR FIRST DAY OF CLASS!"

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?" shouted Cecilia down the stairs. Harry heard her door slam.

He knew what just happened. His mother turned to him.

"Well Harry! Looks like your helping me clean the kitchen!"

A parody of a smile, resembling a grimace if anything, ghosted his face. "Oh joy."

There was a sudden tapping at the window that made both Harry and his mother jump. Thinking it was Samantha and her father throwing pebbles at the window, they had been known to do that, Mary pulled up the blinds, ready to tell them off, only to startle back with a screech.

Harry jumped to his mother's aid, but was shocked to see an owl hovering outside the kitchen window.

He blinked. "Uh, Mom? Why is there an owl outside our window?"

"I don't have a damn clue."

Harry studied the owl. It was brown in color, with a speckled plumage. And yes, it was definitely an owl. There was no mistaking that. It pecked at the window again.

"Do you think we should open the window?" Harry asked.

"Are you crazy?! Letting an owl of all things into my kitchen!?"

The owl pecked again, this time it sounded a bit more impatient. Harry shook his head in wonder. Do owls get impatient?

"Maybe we should call, I don't know, animal control? The zoo? Should we Google owl rescue groups or something?" asked Harry.

His mother didn't answer.

The owl continued pecking, but this time it started scratching on the window with it's talons. A flash of yellow caught Mary's eye.

"Oh my God! It has a letter tied onto it's foot!"

Harry noticed it to. "Maybe it's like a carrier pigeon, err, only an owl?"

His mother nodded absently. "I don't know who would be trying to send us a letter with an owl though. Surely any normal person would just mail it. Even emailing it would be a bit more sane."

They stood there for another moment.

"So, should we let it in?"

His mother shrugged. "Oh, what the hell! Worst comes to worst, I got your father's shotgun under our bed."

Harry looked sideways at his mother. "Real animal friendly Mom. I'm sure the WWF would love to have you as their spokesperson."

"Oh shut up Harry."

His mother crept towards the window, and then quickly undid the latch and pushed it open. She immediately stepped back. The owl flew into the kitchen, landing on the back of a kitchen chair. It hooted imperiously at the two of them, ruffling its feathers in agitation. Apparently, they had taken too long for his liking. It held out its leg, where a letter had been tied.

Harry and his mother both looked at each other.

"I'm your mother. You go get it," she said.

"Mom!"

"You're the one always singing to yourself that you're a 'go getta'! So go get it already!"

"But what if that thing bites?! I could get rabies or something!"

His mother raised an eyebrow. "I got band aids, now go!"

Harry groaned, but obligingly turned towards the owl. He cautiously held out his hand to take the letter. He tried to untie it, but it was tied rather tightly. He jerked a little bit on the knot. The owl screeched at him, and Harry jumped back with a startled yelp.

"Holy shit!"

"HARRY! Watch your mouth!"

"Well! I thought the occasion called for it!"

The front door burst open, and Samantha ran to the kitchen.

"Look what Daddy gave - WHOA! What's that?!?"

Jack walked into the kitchen and beamed, expecting his wife on congratulating him for picking out such a nice present for their daughter without her help. However, no one was paying the least bit of attention to him.

He huffed. "What's everybody staring at?"

They all pointed as one towards the kitchen table. Jack did a double take.

"Holy shit! That's an owl!"

"JACK! Not in front of the children!"

"Sorry!"

"See Mom! I told you the situation called for it!" exclaimed Harry.

"Hey look! It's got a letter tied onto it's foot!" said Samantha, pointing at the owl, who gazed impatiently back, it's foot still in the air.

"I think it wants someone to take the letter," said Jack.

"No shit Sherlock," muttered Harry.

"What did you just say young man?" asked his mother.

"Nothing Mom!"

"So why doesn't someone just go and get it already?" asked Samantha.

"I'm not touching that thing! It already tried to attack me!" said Harry.

"That's a lie and you know it! You were the one trying to jerk its leg off!" said Mary.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" said Samantha. She marched right over to the owl and gently undid the knot. The owl hooted it's thanks, and then took off through the window, but not before grabbing a piece of cut up apple that was lying on the counter beneath the window.

"Well, that makes my manliness meter drop pretty low," observed Jack.

Harry nodded sagely. "Yep, mine's probably brushing up next to some negatives by now."

"Hey! This letter is addressed to me!" said Samantha. She waved it in front of there faces.

"Let me see that!"

Harry snatched the letter from his sister. She squealed.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Harry, Samantha, and their parents crowded around Harry, looking down at the letter.

_Ms. Samantha Lee Connor_

_183 Summerset Dr._

_San Mont Bay, CA 76523_

_Third bedroom on the right_

"Whoa. That's creepy. Who ever sent this letter even knows where I sleep. And, oh eww, they used my middle name!" said Samantha.

"Maybe you shouldn't open -" her mother started. Samantha grabbed the letter from Harry and ripped it open. Two sheets of paper fell out onto the floor. She picked them up and turned them over.

_Dear Ms Connor,_

_Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to Salem Academy. It is one of the most prestigious schools of magic for young witches and wizards in North America. Our records indicate that you are muggleborn, a witch or wizard who is born to non magical parents. A representative will be by tomorrow to better explain this acceptance letter. Enclosed is a list of things needed for the upcoming school year._

_Sincerely,_

_Maddox Minglehump _

_Deputy Headmaster_

"Uh . . ." said Jack.

Harry threw an arm around the shoulders of his little sister. "Yeah, that's pretty much explains it all. I always knew there was something funny about you Sammy! You had a toad for a pet when you were six and you actually like seafood! Yep, it was obvious all along. Maybe we should burn you at the stake or something. You know, exorcise the evil and what not."

"Hardy Harr harr. That's not funny," she said.

"Well, it must be some sort of a joke," said her mother as she examined the letter.

Jack looked at the supply list, Harry looking over his shoulder.

"Hey! It says that you can bring and owl, cat, or toad to school with you! Maybe you could use your magical powers to bring you toad back to life! Then you could take him to school with you! Raising the dead . . . yeah, that's be your kinda thing," said Harry.

"Oh shut up Harry!" exclaimed Samantha. She looked at her mother.

"So what if someone does show up tomorrow? What are we going to do?"

Mary looked lost. "I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I wonder where you'd find a pewter cauldron? Maybe Wal-Mart?" their father mumbled to himself.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'd bet just about anything this was just some sort of elaborate birthday prank."

"But how would they know where I sleep for God's sakes?" asked Samantha.

Harry shrugged. "Probably one of your friends. You have those heathens over enough. I'm sure after a couple of years they've figured it out by now."

Samantha persisted. "But how did they get an owl to deliver the letter?"

"Maybe one of your friends has a family member who trains owls?" suggested Jack.

Samantha shook her head. "I think someone would have told me that. It's pretty cool."

"And maybe not," said Mary.

They all looked at each other, no one willing to break the silence. Well, almost no one.

"Okay, so this might be an awkward moment, but can I spend the night at Rich's?" asked Harry.

Everyone turned to look at him. His eyes widened and he threw up his hands.

"What?"

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Review! I love feedback!


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Wow. I got . . . 1 review. Now don't get me wrong! I'm grateful for . . . 1 review. But damn. I have another account, and I'm used to like 16 reviews by now, at least. Damn. Oh well. I like writing this story. Whoa, just heard something break down stairs . . . uh oh.

Discliaim Her: Anything you recognize, I don't own. Anything you don't, I guess I own.

**Warning!** Just a little rough language and insinuations. Nothing too graphic, and nothing you haven't heard before.

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Chapter Two

"So let me get this straight. You say that an owl, a freaking owl, flew in your kitchen window with a letter to your kid sister saying she'd been accepted to a school for witches?" asked Richard.

Harry nodded, taking another swig of his beer. "Yep."

Rich shook his head. "Well man, whatever you're on, be a pal and share!"

Harry snorted, throwing his empty beer can into the yard. They were currently sitting on the porch swing of some guy's house, drinking beer and listening to the music coming from inside. There were various couples snuggling up in the nooks and crannies of the large patio, and Harry swore he could hear someone under the porch.

"Come on, Dick! Let's get back inside! I heard whoever's party this was, I think is Joe Smites, but his 'rents just got their bathroom remodeled. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind getting Ashley Newsom in their new Jacuzzi bathtub. Or hell, even their pool. I'm not above a little public nudity."

Rich snorted into his beer can. "Yeah, good luck with that."

He paused, and as an after thought, shouted at Harry's retreating back. "And don't call me Dick!"

Harry slid the patio door open. Immediately his ears were assaulted with some pretty loud music. He didn't know who this guy rapping was, but as long as there was a beat he could dance with some chick to, he didn't much care. The living room was already trashed. Empty beer cans littered the floor, and a couple of guys were holding a small looking fellow over a keg. Harry grinned drunkenly, waving at the burly guys. One waved back, almost dropping the small guy. Harry himself was the king of keg stands. He could go for 27 seconds, and no one had beat his record yet!

"Hey Harry," said a girl he vaguely recognized. He nodded to her as she passed, checking out her rear over his shoulder.

"Harry! Dude! Where the hell have you been?"

Harry opened his mouth, but Deek didn't give him a chance to say.

"You gotta try this shit, dude! I'm getting higher than yo grandma's panty line ! YEAH! WHOOO!"

Harry rolled his eyes, and yelled over the loud music. "Deek! Stop screaming!"

Deek toasted Harry with his blunt. "Yeah! That's what your mom said to me last night! WHOO!"

He stripped off his shirt and ran outside. Harry could barely hear the splash of Deek jumping into the pool over the loud music. He shook his head. It was a wonder the guy hadn't inadvertently killed himself by now.

Deek was their local high school junkie genius, with dread locks, a Bob Marley t-shirt, and a bong under his car seat. He even got his art teacher to help him make a bong in art class, telling her it was a flower vase for his mom.

Harry considered Deek to be his best friend next to Richard. He'd known Rich since they were in pre-school, but they met Deek in middle school. High school saw their friendship with the crazy pothead strengthen. If you saw Harry and Rich, Deek wouldn't be too far off.

Deek would come to class baked, barely pay attention, and then somehow manage to miraculously come out of school with all A's. Maybe that was because his parent were rich and bribed the school some how. Harry really didn't know. Maybe Deek really was just a genius. Either way, Deek had his heart set on Harvard. Harry didn't know why, but knowing Deek, he'd probably pull it off.

"Hey Harry! Where's Dick?" yelled Rachel Barley. Harry smiled and made his way through the crowd over to her and a couple of other giggling girls. They were sitting at a mini bar, which to Harry wasn't so mini. Who's ever party this was, their parents were obviously well off.

He leaned against the bar, casually lighting up a cigarette. "Why? You want to meet it? I'm sure it'd be happy to see ya."

Rachel laughed. "Yeah, maybe in your wet dreams. But you know I'm talking about your friend Dick! He's super cute, and you know I want to meet him. Won't you introduce me to him tonight?"

Harry took a long drag, seemingly considering her request. He exhaled and then glanced sideways at her. She smiled and flipped her long brown hair. He watched her fold her hands on her lap, drawing his attention to her tight mini skirt.

"What's in it for me?" he finally asked, eyes still glued to her too tight skirt.

Rachel smiled. "I'll give you a kiss."

Harry's eyebrow raised inquiringly. "Really?"

She nodded. The girls behind her giggled louder.

"Okay then. I think I can agree to those terms."

Harry leaned forward, ready to go in for the kill, when all the sudden, Rachel held something up between their faces. It made his eyes go cross, which when you wore glasses, always kind of gave you a headache. He leaned back.

"Here you go! One kiss!"

Harry chuckled in spite of himself, obligingly taking the chocolate candy from Rachel.

"Where'd you get this?" asked Harry.

Rachel pointed down the bar. There was a small candy bowl loaded with chocolate kisses. Harry shrugged and unwrapped the candy. He popped it into his mouth.

"Mmm. Best kiss I've ever had," he said while savoring the chocolaty flavor.

Rachel laughed. "I'm glad. Now, I believe we had an agreement Mr. Conner."

Harry held his hands up in surrender. "Yeah, you got me. A deal's a deal, no matter how the nice guy gets cheated. Okay, let's go see if we can find ourselves some Dick!"

She giggled. "Harry! That sounds so wrong!"

He smiled charmingly at her. "It's supposed to!"

Harry led Rachel through the crowd. He knew her from his English class. She'd always let him copy her homework, which made her great in Harry's book, but Harry wasn't really serious about wanting anything more than innocent flirting from her.

For one, she'd seen his best friend Rich one day, and had wanted Harry to introduce her to him. Harry didn't interfere with any girls interested in his best friend and neither did Rich. And two, well, he really did think Ashley Newsom was cute, and he kind of wanted to date her. He probably would be dating her too, if it wasn't for her ugly-ass boyfriend who only cared for reading philosophy books all day.

Suddenly, the object of their conversation burst in through the front door.

"COPS! COPS! RUN! THE COPS ARE HERE!"

"Oh shit!" exclaimed Harry. The whole room went wild. People were pushing and screaming, all trying to get out of the house. Someone broke a window and jumped out, and Deek looked in. He climbed in through the broken window, dripping wet.

"Did somebody say my Pops was here? Daddy?" asked Deek, looking all around him. Then he fell to the floor, snoring.

"Fuck this!" said Rich. He grabbed Deek and motioned for Harry to follow him out through the window. Rich played football with Harry, but unlike Harry, Rich was huge. He could easily carry Deek's small frame.

Once they got outside, Harry could see the flashing blue lights over the house. People were yelling and running and there were cops trying to catch and handcuff people. Harry, Rich, and Deek had gotten a ride from someone out here, so they didn't have a car, but knowing that the police would probably stop them otherwise, it was probably a good thing. Not to mention they were just a little bit on the tipsy side. However, having cops crash your party does wonders for sobriety.

Harry and Rich looked around, desperately trying to find someplace to hide or run to. Harry looked to the woods surrounding the back of the house. Wherever this place was, it had taken them about forty minutes of driving through the country to get here. Suddenly a thought struck him.

"Rich! I've got an idea! Just follow me!"

Harry started running to the woods. Apparently a few others had the same idea. Rich could barely keep up with Harry's speed, especially with a dead weight, but they were soon crashing through the undergrowth.

"Ha- Ha- RRRY!" panted Rich. Harry looked over his shoulder.

"Just keep on running!" he shouted.

Other people who had tried to run to the woods had either stopped running by now or were already caught. Harry didn't want to stop and find out. He wanted to get a football scholarship this year so that he could go to college on a full ride. There was no way he was going to get caught by the police and ruin his chances at a scholarship, especially right before his senior year.

The two boys ran for close to probably twenty minutes, stumbling blindly through the dark woods. Luckily, it was a full moon, so there was a little light to see by. Harry heard something crash behind him. He turned around to see that Rich and Deek had fallen over a large branch. Deek mumbled something, but continued to sleep, much to the agitation of Rich. He was panting raggedly.

"Damn Harry! We got away already! No one, not even me, can keep up with your cutthroat pace!" He fell onto his back, trying to catch his breath.

Harry himself was leaning against a tree, hands on his knees, trying to catch his own breath.

"Damn! We did it though Rich! We out ran the cops!"

Rich threw a nasty look in Harry's direction. "Whoop de fucking doo. Now where the hell are we?"

This made Harry stop. His eyes widened. "Uh. . . ."

"We're lost in the woods aren't we?" asked Rich. Harry nodded. Rich started to laugh. First only a small chuckle, but then it evolved into full blown laughter.

The laugh was contagious, and before anyone knew it, they both couldn't stop laughing. Deek stirred and blearily opened his eyes.

"Whatssa? What's going on guys? Why ya'll laughing so loud?"

Harry snorted. "We're lost in the woods Deek!"

Deek turned over, snuggling up next to a mushroom. "Hey! It's a mushroom. G'night mushroom."

Rich laughed. "Dude, he's still way out of it."

Harry just shrugged. "Yeah, well, I guess we're just gonna have to spend the night in the woods then. No use trying to find our way back in the dark."

Rich nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But I get this mossy rock. You go sleep over there on the un-mossy ones, because you're the idiot that got us into this mess."

"Hey! I'm the idiot that kept us out of jail!"

Rich shrugged. "Fair enough, but I still get the mossy rock."

Harry huffed, but settled down all the same. It was kind of creepy in the woods, now that they weren't talking. An owl hooted nearby. It didn't do anything to calm Harry's nerves.

'Maybe that's an ill omen or some bullshit like that . . .' he thought to himself before exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted off to sleep.

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Harry was not a morning person. In fact, if there was one thing in the world that he hated, even more than sushi, it was getting up in the mornings. Especially if he had to go somewhere, like school, or God forbid, church with his grandparents those rare Sunday mornings his mother made him go.

Sleeping on rocks, and not even the mossy rocks, wasn't how Harry wanted to spend his night. Now he accepted that the morning after might not be so pretty. He wasn't a stranger to hangovers, but why did he have to have a hangover _and_ have slept on rocks? Worse still was the manner in which he had been woken up. It was laughter. And not just any laughter. It was Rich Jones' laughter. And Harry wasn't laughing with him. This usually didn't bode well for Harry.

"Oh dude -" insane laughter "- that is so sick-" more laugher.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up. He was sore from running last night and sleeping on rocks. He found his glasses where he had left them in between a couple of rocks, and put them on his face. Once everything was once again clear, he focused his attention on his friend.

Rich, who was still chuckling at who knows what, looked just as bad as Harry felt. There were twigs in his hair, grass stains galore, and it looked like his clothes had been torn from the desperate run through the forest. Deek, however, was stilled curled up with his mushroom.

"What's so funny?" asked Harry, glaring at the way Rich was obviously over exaggerating his amusement.

"Your mom always said your hair looked like a birds nest. Well, I think -" Rich broke off laughing - "I think it probably smells like one too!"

Harry threw Rich a confused look, running his hand through his perpetually messy hair, as was his habit. His fingers stopped halfway through as he touched something cold and wet. With great trepidation, he looked at his fingers, only to discover some sort of white -

"Oh. Oh dude. Don't tell me you jerked one off on my hea -"

This just made Richard laugh harder. "Harry! No! That's bird shit!"

Harry just blinked. "Oh."

The realization finally penetrated Harry's foggy mind, and he hastily wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Oh this is disgusting! Yuck!" exclaimed Harry.

Harry took off his t-shirt and rubbed his head with it. Once Rich had assured him that all the white crap was out of his hair, Harry threw the shirt into the woods.

"Cotton's biodegradable, right?"

Rich shrugged. "I guess. But hey, now you match Deek!"

Both boys turned their heads to regard the half naked guy snoring in a mushroom patch.

Harry sighed. "Well. That was one party I'll never forget."

"I'm sure this is one morning after you'll never forget either," Rich chuckled.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess. But that time when I woke up in a strange bed with a monkey still takes the weird morning after prize. I still don't know if anything, you know, funny went on between me and that monkey."

Harry and Rich both shivered at the thought of it.

"Yeah, last time I'll ever date the daughter of a zoo keeper. But her parties sure were wild, eh?" asked Rich. He was trying to pick the twigs out of his hair.

"Yeah, that was probably because her parents kept wild animals at their house. Never seen a drunk zebra before," snorted Harry.

"And I doubt you ever will again."

As silence lapped, they both sat, lost in their own thoughts. A particularly loud snort from Deek brought them out of their momentary silence.

"So, I guess we should probably wake up Deek and then find our way out of here, right?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a good plan to me. I just wish the trees didn't all look the same."

"Yeah, that kind of sucks," said Rich.

"I guess I'll go wake up Deek," said Harry.

"Yeah, you do that, and I'll go visit the little boy's bush."

Harry smiled and waved Rich off. "Just don't get lost."

"You mean more lost than I already am?" asked Rich.

"Yeah, that," replied Harry.

Harry yawned and looked at his watch. He grunted. It was only seven in the morning! He usually didn't even stir until at least eleven. He took his cell phone out of his pocket. No missed calls from the 'rents, thank God. That means he'll have some time to get out of the woods and find a way home before they start suspecting something fishy was up.

Harry grabbed a nearby stick laying on the ground and poked Deek on the rear end. He deepened his voice and tried for a southern accent as he yelled at Deek.

"Okay there boy, you just lie still! Good ol' Dr. McCann's just going to check your temperature with this here big thermometer. Now just hold still!"

Deek jumped awake, grabbing the stick and yanking it away from a laughing Harry.

"Dude! You always try and pull that gay crap on me! I'm not gay! I'm just a little bi-curious!"

Harry laughed. "I don't care what you are, just as long as you wake up! We're kind of in a pickle here, and we need to find a way out."

Deek seemed to become aware of his surroundings. He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"You know dude, I'm always one for living among nature and shit like that, but why are we in the middle of the woods? Last thing I remember was going swimming with a couple of pretty ladies."

Harry looked ruefully over at Deek. "Yeah, well, we had to cut the party short last night. The cops busted it up, and Rich grabbed you, who had passed out I might add, and we all took off through the woods. We just happened to have, uh, gotten lost. And now we are going to try and find our way back out."

Deek just smiled. "Okay."

Harry rolled his eyes. If Deek was anything, he was weird. Tell him Martians had invaded earth, and he'd be cool with that. Tell him there weren't anymore Cheetos, and he'd act like someone just killed his puppy.

"Oh cool! 'Shrooms!"

Rich stumbled back into there makeshift camp. "The bush's is free, if anyone's gotta go!"

"Keep an eye on Deek, will you Rich? I'm afraid he might eat those mushrooms, and I think the only trip he'd be taking is one to the emergency room to have his stomach pumped out," said Harry as he tromped into the woods.

Rich just waved him off.

Harry came to a nice little spot not to far away, and dropped his drawers. He suddenly heard a branch snap and something rustling in the bushes to his left. He immediately put the equipment up.

'What the hell is that?' he thought to himself.

Something crept out of the bushes, something huge. Harry fell back a few steps, ready to run.

'Holy shit! Is that a bear?' he asked himself.

It was huge and black, and it looked just as surprised to see Harry as Harry was to see it. Harry stared into it's light blue eyes, somehow feeling a familiar twinge in his memory. Harry shook himself out of his stupor and ran for camp. When he cautioned a look over his shoulder, the beast, whatever it was, was gone.

He burst through the underbrush and into camp. Rich and Deek both jumped, startled.

"Harry! What is wrong with y-" Rich started. Harry interrupted him.

"There's something in the woods! Some kind of animal! We need to get out of here now!"

Harry took off in what he believed to be the direction of the house from last night. Rich and Deek shared a look, and then scrambled after Harry.

None of them noticed the thing with blue eyes watching them flee from behind the trees.

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Gee, I would love to get some feedback. Maybe someone would read this and bring joy into my bleak, reviewless, day. But THANKS to you who reviewed!!!!


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Well, ten is better than one. Okay, this chapter is transitional. Not much action, but it does give tell you how the world without Harry coped.

Disclaimer Her: Same old, same old. I don't own anything recognizable exept the unrecognizable.

A _wee_ bit more angst here, not nearly as light hearted as earlier. I'm hoping for a nice mixture of both. Kind of like real life, ya know? Oh, and this isn't slash! Don't know why it was marked with Malfoy . . . oh well, it's fixed. Nothing against slash, mind you, but I don't think there's going to be much, if at all, in this story. Anyway, relationships will be for a while yet. I'd rather focus on the story and the character development that get messy with some romance right off the bat!

**Hey Vesper!** You're a real sweetie! I was getting down on myself, but your review made me feel loads better! If you think my chapter's worth reading twice, then I must be doing something right. Sorry I don't have much witty dialogue in this one, but I'll try and see what I can come up with next chapter. thank you!

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Chapter Three

Sirius Black was famous, or rather, infamous man.

As the only recorded escaped convict of the wizarding prison Azkaban, it was a given that he'd be well known and highly sought after by many different parties.

You see, Sirius Black was innocent, and there wasn't a soul in the whole wide world who knew this fact except himself and his former best friend, Peter Pettigrew. Former, because Peter was the one who had betrayed Sirius and subsequently lead to the deaths of some very good people.

When Sirius had seen Peter on the front page of the Daily Prophet in his rat form with the Weasleys, he had been furious. The rat wasn't as dead as Sirius thought he had been. And if the youngest son of the Weasleys was at Hogwarts with the rat as a pet, then by Sirius's calculations, so would his godson Harry.

Azkaban had not been good to Sirius Black. It was only after he had seen the rat that he had been able to think more clearly than he'd ever had in years. Blind anger is not a happy feeling, nor was it very depressing. The Dementors could not take that away from him.

The first thought that had come to his head after bloodying his fists on the cold stone walls was Harry. Harry, the sweet innocent little boy who Sirius had abandoned to the half giant Hagrid. By now, Sirius' godson would be at Hogwarts with his parent's betrayer.

Guilt, which wasn't a happy feeling either, had consumed him. Not only did he abandon his godson, but Harry was living in constant danger with the rat in Hogwarts. Sirius had been physically ill at the thought.

However, it was during his time of clear thinking that Sirius had formed a plan. He would escape his prison, and he would go to Hogwarts to capture the rat. After he had been declared innocent, he would invite Harry to live with him. But if Harry was happy with whoever he was living with, and Sirius desperately hoped it would be with Remus, then Sirius would be just as happy to visit Harry often and get to know his godson. Sirius couldn't imagine his life without Harry now that he had finally remembered the child after so long.

It was the perfect plan.

But it was bound to fail, and not in a way Sirius could ever expect.

He had escaped his prison, swimming from the island in the dead of night with only the stars as a guide to the mainland. Half frozen from the cold waters, Sirius, in his animagus form of a large dog, had managed to drag himself to shore and survive the night.

Ironically, escaping Azkaban had been the easy part.

Hogwarts wasn't going to be opened until September first. According to a muggle newspaper he had picked up from a waste can in a small town somewhere on the coast of Wales, Hogwarts wouldn't be open for another month.

But that had been fine with Sirius. It would probably take him that long just to get there on four legs. So Sirius began the long journey towards Hogwarts. He wondered if he could sneak himself onto the Hogwarts Express in London, after it became apparent that he couldn't move nearly as fast as he could when he was healthy. So Sirius stole a map from a muggle gas station and took off towards London.

He arrived in London wet, dirty, and hungry. That was fine with him. It wasn't any different from Azkaban.

Looking through the garbage for food wasn't exactly what Sirius thought of as a well balanced diet plan, but he survived. He found another newspaper in the garbage, which informed him that he had two weeks until term started.

Old, thrown away newspapers were really the only way he could get information on what was going on in the world. However he did get some strange looks from people when they saw a dog looking intently at a newspaper. After looking through quite a few, he figured that not much had changed during the past decade or so he was imprisoned.

But Sirius was restless. What could he do for the next two weeks?

Then an idea struck him. He would go and see his godson! Sirius just wanted a glimpse of Harry, nothing more. He just wanted to see him, smell him even. He wanted to make sure he was okay. But Sirius was at a loss on how he could find Harry. He figured the best plan, but also the most dangerous, was to hang around Diagon Alley as a lovable stray dog. Maybe he could eavesdrop on some students.

Surely Harry had friends at Hogwarts, and hopefully he could somehow garner some news about his godson. Harry might even show up to get his school supplies, which would keep Sirius from doing anymore traveling.

Unfortunately, Sirius was reminded exactly how much he looked like a Grimm in his animagus form. If he ever tried to come out of the shadows of Diagon Alley, there would be screaming and chaos.

When there was only a few days until the term started, Sirius was about ready to give up on trying to find Harry. At least he could try and catch a glimpse of him at King's Cross. All the students rode the train to Hogwarts, so he'd surely see Harry. Sirius didn't think there'd be all that much chance to see him at school though.

Knowing the Ministry, the place would probably be covered in Dementors. After all, why would a known Death Eater escape, and especially one that had been close to the Potter family, but to kill the boy responsible for his master's downfall? That thought had given Sirius pause. If there were to be Dementors on the train, but surely not with the children, he might find himself walking after all.

However, the night before he was to travel to King's Cross Station, he got a clue as to where his godson was.

It was dark in Diagon Alley. All of the shops had already been closed and not a soul wandered through the deserted streets. It was the perfect time for Sirius to scavenge the streets for dropped food or coins. It was surprising how much money he could find just lying about on the ground after the alley was closed.

He was just passing the book store, it's front window gently aglow with the light of a candle, when a title of a book caught his eye. He put his front paws on the window, his head pressed against the glass. What he read made his breath catch.

_Harry James Potter : The Boy Who Lived and Disappeared_

Sirius had known Harry had been hailed as the savior of the wizarding world when Voldemort's killing curse had failed. He knew the nickname, the guards in Azkaban had teased him enough about his so called master when he had first been imprisoned, but what did that author mean by 'disappeared?'

Sirius tried to bat away the anxious feeling the title had stirred within his gut. There was no use panicking. He had to come up with a plan. Sirius had to have that book. There was no way he was walking away without it.

Sirius looked around the alley discreetly, trying to see if there was any unwelcome wizards out and about to see a dog turn into a man. Seeing none, he slipped into a side alley and transformed back into a man. After steadying himself, he was walking on two legs again after all, Sirius silently crept out of the shadows.

He tried the door. It was locked, just as he suspected. He didn't have a wand. There wasn't any way that a simple 'Alohamora' would work on that door anyway. Any first year could break in if it was that easy. Sirius tried to think. What could he do . . .and then he smiled.

It took him close to twenty minutes, and he had to change back into his dog form, but Sirius finally located a thin piece of metal on the ground. It would be perfect for picking the lock. That was one thing wizards tended to overlook, the good old tried and true muggle way.

Sirius was a little rusty and so was the piece of metal, but after a couple of tries, he was rewarded with a soft click. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, Sirius stole inside and grabbed the book. He softly shut the door behind him.

The next morning, Mr. Kirneal would be confused as to why he hadn't remembered to lock the door last night.

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Sirius sat in a shady looking bar in the heart of Knockturn Alley. He had easily stolen a long cloak from some drunk passed out behind the bar, so hopefully no one would recognize him. He didn't want to wait until morning to read the book, and the streets, which were lit by candles, had already been snuffed out.

A grungy looking waitress with stained clothes and a few missing teeth made her way over to his table. Sirius braced himself.

"Wot you want to drank sir?" she asked. She had a heavy cockney accent.

Sirius waved his hand in dismissal.

"Nothing," he growled. His voice sounded hoarse from disuse.

The waitress took the hint and left him be.

Sirius had chosen a table in the far corner of the room, half way concealed in the shadows. It was noisy and smelly, but at least he could see to read. He opened the book.

He started pouring over the contents, surprised and angered. Harry had been placed with his mother's relatives. Sirius growled at this. Lily had specifically told Dumbledore that Harry was never supposed to enter the care of that beast of a sister if she had died.

He continued on and became more and more shocked and angered as the pages turned.

The Dursleys had been abusive.

Sirius felt physically sick when he read this, but he made himself continue to read. He had to know what happened. The next part really tested his stomach's resilience.

When Harry was around three years old, he had been abandoned by the Dursleys while on vacation in America. Apparently the Dursleys had been interrogated when Harry hadn't gone to attend Hogwarts.

'Merlin! He was missing for that long?' pondered Sirius numbly.

Sirius was so mad he could have killed the Dursleys with his bare hands, but he kept his temper in check and continued reading.

The book detailed the Dursley trial. Interviews with neighbors and people close to the Potter and Dursley family. Sirius was especially gratified that the book painted Dumbledore in a bad light, as he had not thoroughly made sure The Boy Who Lived's guardians were adequate. He hadn't even checked on Harry!

There were theories as to what had happened to Harry, and the book named quite a few. Some had said that he had been captured by Death Eaters and was being raised as the next Dark Lord. Others say he had been turned into a vampire and was among one of their clans. Some thought he died. Sirius prayed to all that was good that none of those theories would be proven true.

He wanted to turn the page to a happy ending in which Harry had been found, been placed with Remus, and attended the school his parents had gone to, your normal happy boy.

His prayers were left unanswered as he turned the page to the last chapter.

_The Boy Who Died_

Sirius could not breathe. His heart had stopped. Time had stopped. The noise of the room was drowned out by the scream of denial in his own head.

He closed his eyes.

And opened them again. He did not know that tears had begun streaming down his face. He could barely feel the nausea eating away at his stomach. All he could do was stare down and the words declaring the end to his world.

_". . . muggle authorities. . . . . the place where he had been abandoned . . . . A river, not too far away . . . Pulled out of the water by a muggle fisherman. . . . . A body of a young boy . . . . Features indistinguishable . . . . in the water for weeks . . . . Black hair . . . .no dental records . . . identified by the coat belonging to the Dursley's son . . . . Only three years old . . . Drowned . . . . Dead . . . . Dead . . . . Dead . . . . Dead . . . . Dead. . . . ."_

Sirius screamed, the words burning themselves into his heart. He threw the table and the book away from him. The people in the bar turned warily to regard the dark cloaked figure. Sirius tripped over himself trying to get to the door and ran as fast as he could from the bar and the book that had killed the only piece of himself worth living.

Exhaustion caught up with him. Sirius stopped running. He leaned against a wall in a dark back alley, breathing raggedly. He would murder Pettigrew. The only thing he had left to live for now was Pettigrew's head on a silver platter. He would watch the rat's blood drip from his fingers. He would choke the air out of his lungs. He would kill the bastard who had taken his family away. He would avenge his friends and his godson. Pettigrew was going to die, and Sirius was going to do the honors.

He choked out a sob.

Sirius sank down the wall, hugging his knees to himself. His rage was forgotten in the wave of grief that assaulted him. He cried for the friends who were taken away so ruthlessly. He cried for the child he should have protected. He cried for the man who's only reason to live was to avenge those who had died.

Sirius Black was a broken man.

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What ever you do, don't review. Don't even push that button. Yeah, you'll never find your soul mate, never eat rice, and you won't learn how to scuba dive if you do. If you leave a review, I'll be soo upset. Infact, seeing new reviews just KILLS me!

. . . . maybe I'll get feedback on THAT damnit . . . _**sooo, please review**_?


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: I am sooo sorry for the delay. I've been pretty busy lately. Working does that to you. And so does the last book of the HP series. Man, I felt like my childhood died or something. I grew up with Harry Potter! And now here I am, exactly 13 days away from my first year of college. Damn. But I digress.

Here's the next installment. More Sirius, Harry and Co. next chapter. Now everybody's working off the same timeline.

Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm flattered! And inspired!

Disclaimer Her: Same old, same old. I don't own anything recognizable except the unrecognizable.

And without further ado . . .

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Chapter Four

There had been so many close calls.

So many times had Sirius nearly caught Pettigrew and so many times was he nearly caught himself.

Sirius had almost gotten the rat months after his escape, and just a scant few months after he had found the damning book. He had been at Hogwarts. Security had been tight, but thankfully there hadn't been any dementors. There had been dementors in Diagon Alley the morning he had left. Thank Merlin they had shown up after his breakdown, otherwise he'd probably be either dead, soulless, or back in the cell again.

Hogwarts was just the same as it had been the day he left it, even the students were the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but to the upperclassmen, first years all looked alike anyway.

Memories of time long forgotten would creep up at the most unexpected moments. He had been doing his business in Hagrid's pumpkin patch (helping fertilize, of course), when he'd been nearly overcome with the memory of the Marauders' first excursion with Moony on the full moon.

Sirius was thankful that the memories Azkaban had stolen were finally, albeit slowly, making themselves known once again. But the memories were bittersweet, as only memories of good friends you'll never see again are.

It was only later in the school year that Sirius had finally gotten a good chance of catching Pettigrew. He had been about to nab the stinking rat, but the Weasley boy had gotten to him before Sirius could. So Sirius did the only think he could think of doing, considering his own desperation and their convenient location. He dragged the Weasley boy down into the depths of the Whomping Willow and into the Shrieking Shack.

The Weasley boy's friends followed him. Sirius thought they might have been called Seamus and Bean, or something like that. He didn't really remember what the Weasley boy was shouting. He had been too overcome with bloodlust. After months of planning and reconnaissance work, the only thing Sirius cared for was Pettigrew's head between his teeth.

He transformed into the 'known' murderer Sirius Black. Really, there was no other way he was going to be able to wrestle the rat out from the boy's iron grip in dog form. At least it was the way of less injury to the kid. But while he was demanding that the boy hand over the rat, someone who Sirius hated just a little less than Pettigrew himself waltzed in and held him at wand point.

Severus Snape. The hook nosed bastard himself. And the son of a bitch attacked him.

In the melee of confusion, Pettigrew escaped. This angered Sirius more than anything, and with a savage yell, he head butted Snape into a wall. Snape hit his head rather hard and was knocked out. The children were still cowering in the corner, the Weasley boy whining about how his rat had bitten him and run away.

Sirius growled, grabbed Snape's wand, and obliviated the three boys of any knowledge of his animagus form. For good measure, and just because he hated Snape, he took his wand with him. After all, wands were hard to come by when you were the most wanted man in all of Great Britain.

He couldn't find Pettigrew once he was outside. He lost his scent to the winds. Sirius raged against the sheer unfairness of it all. Months of planning ruined! That damn hooked nosed bastard!

There was no other option but to retreat and bid his time. He decided he would have his base of operations at his old house on Grimmauld Place. After all it was under a fidelius charm with him as the secret keeper, and now that his mother was dead, he could hide out there. Thank Merlin for small miracles. Miracle as in his mother being dead. The house was just a bonus.

The moon was full that night. This had been Sirius' cue to exit stage left. No matter how much he wished he could have Remus' friendship and help, he knew what the werewolf believed. He also knew that meeting the werewolf on this night would be a very bad idea if he still wanted to keep his throat. He fled into the night, hoping vainly to pick up the scent of a dirty rat.

Later that night saw Sirius Black with a bottle of fire whiskey and an old photo album. A small child's toothless smile grinned innocently at him. Green eyes crinkled in laughter. Harry didn't have green eyes anymore. He didn't even have eyes.

He threw the bottle into the fireplace. The flickering flame roared as it met the very potent alcohol.

He blinked tears away.

Sirius Black didn't much care for his eyebrows anyway.

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It had been nearly four years since Sirius had found that Merlin forsaken book, a little less than three since he'd been at Hogwarts. He had spent four years trying to block the pain, of trying to forget the sad green eyes that haunted him in his sleep. Four years of hunting a rat. The rage was all consuming. He didn't think of much else at the beginning of his quest. Now, it was better, but the rage was still lurking in the forefront of his mind.

Whenever Sirius heard rumors of Voldemort's whereabouts, he'd check the place out for himself. After all, where ever Voldemort was, Peter was bound to be too. Sirius didn't believe that Voldemort had truly died. He snooped around Hogwarts too long after his escape to have any disillusions.

During what would have been Harry's first year at Hogwarts, Voldemort had tried and almost succeeded in stealing the Philosopher's Stone. Sirius' little remaining respect for the headmaster, and it was minuscule indeed, had plummeted after hearing about that. What kind of half bent idea was it to hide a dangerous magical artifact like that in a school full of children?

The following year had seen many mysterious attacks on the students by what was popularly believed to be the work of the heir of Slytherin. No one knew why, but half way through the year, the attacks suddenly stopped. To Sirius, it stinked of Voldemort.

The kicker came a year after he had almost gotten Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack. For some ungodly reason, the Ministry fools had decided to reopen the Triwizard Tournament and hold it at Hogwarts. Rumor was that the Belgian champion, Victor Krum, had been port keyed away after touching the winner's cup to an undisclosed location where the spirit of Voldemort had performed some sort of ritual and regained his body.

Of course, the Ministry called Dumbledore a senile old fool for saying such things. There was no denying that Krum had been port keyed away, however. The Ministry seemed to believe that it was the work of rogue Death Eaters instead of Voldemort himself. The broken and bloody body of Victor Krum had appeared with the cup not very long after it had taken him away. Sirius would bet his bottom knut that Snape, the spying snake, had been the one to tell Dumbledore what had progressed that night. Dumbledore in turn had tried to warn the Ministry and the public, but to no avail.

The relations between Britain and Belgium were still quite tense.

The following year had seen Ministry intervention at Hogwarts. Sirius wasn't sure, but he figured that it was still going on.

So the Order of the Phoenix had been reborn with the second coming of Voldemort. Sirius had been around too many shady bars, seen too much and heard too much, to believe that Voldemort wasn't back. And he definitely knew the Order was active. Especially as he was rather high on their priority list. Who else but that murdering betrayer Black would be helping Voldemort back to power, right?

There had been some very close calls. He had even come face to face with a seriously pissed off werewolf, but thank Merlin, he somehow escaped. But with the Ministry and the Order out for his blood, he had to keep moving around.

He could have gone back to Grimmauld Place, but after spending the first three months in there after the Hogwart's stint, he came to the conclusion that his former home was just a bad at being back in Azkaban. Maybe even worse with his mother screaming at him from her portrait and Kreacher plotting his demise, or so Sirius would suspect if the creature wasn't a House Elf bound to the family.

So he simply left. Only if things got really desperate, on the verge of death desperate, would he ever go back to that shit hole. As it were, there was no telling how many times he'd have to leave the country for a month or so when he'd have a particularly close shave with the Order or the Ministry.

When you're a wizard with very little scruples, it was easy to steal away on a train or an aeroplane. It was difficult to track the rat with all the running around and hiding from his own pursuers, but he managed. Sirius would utilize the time spent abroad to formulate different plans and reorganize his thoughts. He'd do some reconnaissance work to see exactly how far Voldemort's influence was felt in different countries, and where he may be. After all, where Voldemort was, Pettigrew wouldn't be far behind.

Luckily for the Wizarding world, Voldemort was rumored to be as weak as a baby. It would take some time for him to become the force he had once been. Not that Sirius jumped for joy. The Wizarding world could rot for all he cared. His life was completely consumed with the hunt of the rat and the escaping of the Order and the Ministry.

So it was after a particularly nasty fight between Sirius and an Order member hot on his trail, did Sirius decide that going abroad yet again was a good idea. He needed the small respite.

This time he would be regrouping in a small cottage he had won in a game of poker in some seedy bar on the bad side of London. The small house's location was a determining factor of where he'd go next, and it just so happened he was bound for America. He usually stuck to Europe, but then again no one was really looking for him in the States.

He just wished the cottage, or should he say small shack with bad floors, had been on the beach instead of in the middle of nowhere hidden in the woods. He liked the beach. It was better than the woods filled with mosquitoes. He hated mosquitoes. There weren't any in the Forbidden Forest, and Sirius wondered why.

The shack would have to do, at least for a month or so. Then he would make his way back to Europe. Maybe head back through China. He was on that side of the country, after all. The shack smelled like mold, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and Sirius knew that far too well.

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Sirius was bored.

No, he was beyond bored. He had reached such a low level of boredom that he had given each of his fingers a name and had created an anatomical soap opera between the warring clans of Lefty and Righty. Azkaban must have done more to him than he'd originally thought.

Poindexter the Pointer Finger was getting hot and heavy with Penny the Pinky from the other side of the body. The Thumbs weren't too happy about that.

It was probably this new level of boredom low that made Sirius reconsider the ill effects of his imprisonment. Exactly how much had he been affected? Obviously a bit. Oh well, didn't really matter in the long run.

Looking down at his hands, he shook his head at himself.

"This is getting more ridiculous by the day," he mumbled to himself.

He went to go wash off the pen marks from his hands. Penny the Pinky didn't need to wear so much eye make up anyhow.

The cabin, or should he say shack, was literally out in the middle of nowhere. A dirt trail barely big enough for a small car twisted and turned its way from the main road to the cabin. It was at least ten miles, not a distance to laugh at.

He could always cut more firewood. But somehow that wasn't as appealing as it had been a week ago. So Sirius decided to do the next best thing.

There was a stream not too far from the cabin. He had discovered it on one of his many explorations of the surrounding woods. It was big enough to have a pretty decent amount of fish. And if there was one thing Sirius liked to do, it was catch fish in his dog form. That and rabbits. There were plenty of rabbits in the forest.

Sirius transformed into a big black furry dog. If he stood up on his hind feet, he'd be well of six feet. With a happy bark, Sirius plodded into the woods, intent on his upcoming supper. However, a strange scent caught his nose. It took a moment for him to realize it was the scent of a human. He'd been isolated in the woods for so long it took him a moment to recognize it.

It wasn't strange for hunters to be out and about. He'd smelled some his first night in the cabin, and he'd had no problem staying away. After all, it wouldn't do to be mistaken for some sort of animal worth mounting above the fireplace. But this scent was strange. It was almost . . .familiar?

It wasn't someone from the Order or the Ministry. He'd come across those scents enough times to recognize them. He struggled to remember what it could be, but there was only one way he'd be able to find out, and that was to check it out for himself.

He sniffed the air again.

They were upwind, probably a little less than a mile away. There were two other human scents with his mystery scent, but he didn't recognize them. Curiosity overcoming any common sense, Sirius set out to discover what tugged at his memories.

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Okay people, next chapter is in the works. DH might be incorporated, but remember this is highly AU. Thanks for reading!

Be a pal and share a review?


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: I got the lowest reviews on last chapter than on any other. I'm wiping away the tears as we speak people!

But thank you for the reviews! I'm happy with the ones I've gotten, except, some people don't like how I portray Harry.

I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that this was MY story, not YOURS! Everything in this story is influenced by real events, real people, and real conversations. Yes, Dan the waffle man is real. Yes, I've been to a party like the one I wrote about and cops did crash it, but I was in the car and leaving before they got me. I'm basing these characters off the boys I have observed and known in real life and cannon Harry. If you don't like Harry, then so what? Don't read. If you don't like my story, who cares? I don't!

**AHH I'M FREAKED OUT! IF ANYONE'S GOT ANYTHING HELPFUL TO SAY ABOUT COLLEGE, IT'D BE APPRECIATED!** It's 10 days until I leave for my first year of college. Hot damn am I a nervous wreck! Anybody got any advice for your first time to college? YIKES!!!!!! I'M FREAKING!!!! I'm going to be almost 6 hours away from home. It's not like I'll be able to go home over the weekend, easily. Oh man.

Anyway, here's the next installment! Sorry for the long AN!

Disclaim Her: Same old, same old. I don't own anything recognizable except the unrecognizable.

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Chapter Five

They had been walking for at least an hour. Harry looked at his phone. Yep, it had definitely been an hour. He sighed. All he wanted to do was crawl in his own bed with a Tylenol. Something to the side caught his eye. It was some sort of black mass. It was there for only a split second, but then it was gone.

Harry shivered from the sudden cold he felt. It was probably just his imagination. Things just don't appear and disappear like that, but his intense gaze found something else less frightening. He walked closer, trying to see through the trees and brambles. It was a dirt road. He veered off to the left, leaving the two boys behind him.

"Hey! Come here! I think I found a way out of the woods!"

Harry swept his arms out in a grand motion. "Ta Da! I did it!"

Deek and Rich spied the half hidden dirt road.

"Looks like it," said Deek.

"Yeah, does a bear -" snorts of laughter "- shit in the woods?" asked Rich, surveying the dirt road and Harry.

Harry glared. "Would you stop it with the jokes already! I swear I saw a bear back there!"

"Hey man, I believe you. There are bears in these woods . . .bears who like honey. . . named Pooh Bear."

Harry threw a dirty look over his shoulder at Deek, who just grinned innocently.

"Well, all false accusations of attacking bears aside -"

Harry growled.

" - I think it's time we found our way out of this damn forest," said Rich.

"Well, thanks to Harry's delusions, at least we've found this nice dirt road here. But which way should we go? Right or left?" asked Deek.

"I AM NOT DELUSIONAL!" yelled Harry.

A few birds vacated a nearby tree at the sudden noise. Rich snorted and Deek just pretended Harry hadn't said a word, picking a mushroom up from the ground and adding it to the collection in his pockets.

Harry kicked a nearby rock, watching apathetically as it hit Rich in the shin.

"OW! DAMN IT HARRY!" exclaimed Rich.

"Sorry, I was aiming at Deek," replied Harry absently. He ignored the indigent grumbles of his friend.

Harry folded his arms and took in his surroundings. He knew he saw some sort of animal. Maybe not a bear, but he still wouldn't want to meet that thing again. And with his heads playing tricks on him, it was hard not to be nervous about the thing.

He turned his head right, looking along the dirt road, and then he turned his head left. Which way should they go?

"We could flip a mushroom?" tried Deek hopefully.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "How about a penny, dumb ass?"

Deek took the insult in stride. "Sure, have you got any there Barry, oops, I meant Harry?"

"Okay! Whoever makes the next bear joke will be hurting!" exclaimed Harry, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I know this situation is hard to _bear_, but there's no need for you to be so _grizzly_," said Rich.

"Oh that's it!" Harry threw himself at a laughing Rich, who easily avoided his friend despite his large frame.

"Lighten up Harry!"

Harry mumbled curses under his breath, but before giving up, he did get in one good hit on the back of Rich's head.

Rich rubbed his head while he dug in his pocket for a coin. He pulled out a piece of lint. "Uh, sorry. I don't have anything on me."

Harry and Deek searched their pockets. Harry came up with nothing and Deek pulled out a few dimes and a nickel. A couple of mushrooms fell out of his pocket as he did so.

"Dude! Ya'll think we could use this dime?"

Rich just shook his head. "Do you really think we couldn't? Idiot."

Deek harrumphed. He noticed the scattered mushrooms at his feet. Deek picked up his mushrooms, trying to put them back in his pocket, but one wouldn't go back in.

"Damn, I can't fit this in here. It's too big."

Harry grinned devilishly. "Yeah, that's what your mom said to me last night."

"DUDE! NOT COOL!" yelled Deek.

"You know by saying that, not only are you insulting Deek's mom, but you are also insulting yourself?" asked Rich.

"Really? How so?" asked Harry, turning to regard his friend.

"You just insinuated that you had sexual relations with Deek's mom. _Deek's _mom," emphasized Deek.

"Oh. Yeah, good point. But just the same, it was still a pretty sweet comeback," replied Harry.

Rich nodded sagely. "Sure it was, but you must always consider the ramifications of your words, especially when your talking about yourself committing questionable acts with a popsicle."

"Wow. Ramifications? Insinuated? Must be studying your English vocabulary, eh?" asked Harry.

"Well, when you have an undead corpse waiting to suck your soul out if you don't turn in vocabulary work, I guess the words just rub off on you. Especially if you're trying to get them all done in lunch right before class," said Rich.

"Yeah, well she was right on par with Mr. Scott. I swear I'll never be able to hear the word 'pie' again without someone trying to make me fit it in an equation. And those damn triangles! I barely passed that class!" said Harry.

"Yeah, well you didn't do all that bad. Your GPA is still where it needs to be to get that scholarship you want," pointed out Rich.

"Yeah, but that was only because I wrote the answers to the final exam on my pant's leg. They still won't wash out, but they're still my favorite jeans," said Harry triumphantly.

"Yeah, Mr. Scott sucked, but at least he's no Mrs. Hardin," said Rich.

Harry shuddered. "I am so glad we aren't going to have that frigid bitch this year. Hey, speaking of frigid bitches, did I tell you I was at Deek's house last nig -"

"Dude! Fuck you! Fuck you both! My mom's a bitch, I know, but _still _you guys! Now I am _going_ to flip this damn dime! Anyone want to call?" yelled Deek.

Rich and Harry just grinned at each other.

"Heads left, tails right," said Rich.

"Head's here, and tail's there," said Harry in a sing song voice, pointing at his head and rear.

"I want some head and then some tail," said Rich in a similar voice.

"Good one!" exclaimed Harry.

"Thanks," said Rich.

Deek shook his head, grinning. "You guys are out there man!"

He flipped the coin, but instead of going up and then down, it went up, right, down, rolled, and got lost in the foliage.

"Shit." said Deek. He held up another dime.

"Guess I'll try again, huh?"

"NO! Give me that damn coin! Head's left, tail's right, okay!" said Harry, snatching the coin from Deek hand. He flipped it, all three boys watching intently as it fell. It landed between their feet.

"Well . . ." started Rich.

"Left I guess," said Harry.

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Two hours later saw left to be a good choice of direction. They had found the main road, and had more importantly found a cell phone signal. Now all they had to do was find a ride.

"Harry, call Cecilia. She'll pick us up," suggested Deek, looking at his cell phone.

Harry glared at him. "You just want to look at her legs. I know you."

Deek grinned sheepishly. "Can you blame me? They're so long and . . . -" He couldn't think of another word " - white?"

Rich snorted. "Yeah, white girls. Gotta love the white girls."

"Yeah, and white girls love me too. That's probably why I get along so well with ya'lls moms. . . .at the same time," stated Deek.

"Ha. You wish," said Rich.

"We had that one coming," shrugged Harry.

"Seriously though, I think Cecilia would be a good bet. I've got enough dirt on her that she'd have to come pick us up," said Harry.

Rich and Deek both looked sideways at each other.

"Uhhh, you sure about that Har? She doesn't seem to like us very much," said Rich.

"I think I know my own sister, thank you!"

"I'd like to know you sister," suggested Deek hopefully.

"Oh shut up!" said Harry.

"Harry, if you think it's a good idea, then just go ahead and call her. If she won't help us out, then maybe we could call Kate . . . Uh, never mind, I broke up with her Thursday. We could call Diane, oh wait, I broke up with her Friday. Maybe Sherry, uh, oh for God's sakes, just call you sister!" exclaimed Rich.

Harry chuckled at his friend and dialed his sister's number.

About an hour and a half later, they were sitting by the side of the road trying to skip stones across the asphalt. Wasn't the most fruitful activity, but it did help to pass the time. It was a welcome reprieve from boredom when Cecilia's little blue car appeared on the top of the hill. The three boys jumped to the feet, throwing their hands up and waving at the approaching vehicle.

It speed right by.

The boys just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Dude. Dude, what the fuck?" asked Deek.

"Harry, I'm sorry man, but your sister's one stinking hooker," said Rich.

Harry had his mouth open, a surprised and affronted look on his face.

"Well, well, argh! Bitch!" exclaimed Harry.

Rich raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Hey, I apologized before I insulted her! No need to get all mad!"

"I wasn't talking about you!" said Harry.

"Maybe she didn't see us," suggested Deek.

Harry pulled out his cell phone. "When I get a hold of that dumb ass sister of mine, I'll -"

He stopped.

"What . . . the hell?" asked Harry slowly.

The other two boys crowded around Harry's cell phone. It's screen was flickering and it was smoking a bit from the edges. And then it went completely dead.

Rich and Deek pulled out their cell phones. Rich's cell phone was acting like Harry's. But strangely enough, Deek's cell phone was fine.

"Why the hell are our cell phones going nuts?" asked Rich. He started banging it against the ground, hoping it would come back on.

The look that came over Deek's face was one that Harry had never really been acquainted with before. It was dark, and somewhat frightened. But as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Harry looked over to Rich to see if he had noticed anything, but Rich was still preoccupied with his phone.

"Well, since mine's working, I'll give her a call," said Deek. He punched in her number.

"Hey! How do you know my sister's number?" demanded Harry.

"Dude, chill. I have my ways of knowing useless info."

"Useless?" asked Harry.

Deek nodded. "Yeah, useless, because she never picked up."

"Why you little bastard! Don't call my sister!" yelled Harry.

Rich just laughed.

Ten minutes later, a blue car appeared over opposite hill, but this time it stopped. Deek shut his phone off.

Cecilia rolled down the window. "You midgets owe me big time, you know that right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "We're not midgets anymore sis. Now stop complaining! I told you I'd do your chores for the next two weeks."

Rich and Deek jumped in the back seat while Harry got in the front.

"Wait a second! My ring!" exclaimed Harry.

The three others gave him a look.

"You wear a ring, little bro?" asked Cecilia with her eyebrow raised. She looked extraordinarily like Mom.

Harry was offended. "My class ring you dumb asses! I left on that branch I hung it on when we stopped by that stream to get water and clean the dirt off! I gotta go back and get it!"

"Damn it Harry! That stream was at least ten minutes away from the main road!" exclaimed Rich.

Cecilia sighed. "Oh alright. Go get your damn ring, but you better start running, 'cause if you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving without you!" she threatened.

"I'll come with you Harry, just incase you get lost or something," offered Deek. Harry couldn't figure out why, but he seemed nervous about something. His voice sounded serious, not his usual airy, hippie-ish way of talking. Harry tried to push his own nervous feelings away. He was just going back to pick up his ring.

"I'll be running Deek. You know you can't keep up with me. I'll be fine. It's just off that dirt road. I can't get lost too much, can I?" asked Harry.

Deek still looked unsettled. Harry wondered why no one else really seemed to notice.

"Just go already! I'm already timing you!" yelled Cecilia, waving her hand towards the car clock.

"Damn Cess! I'm going!"

"Don't call me that!"

Harry jumped out of the car and took off for the stream. He didn't notice Deek's worried face peering after him as he went.

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He made it to the stream in about five minutes. The sun was getting higher, and with it the temperature. He was sweating a panting. He fell to his knees by the stream, splashing water on his face to cool down. Once he had gotten his breath, he stood up and went to the branch he had visited earlier. His ring hung there innocently.

He glared at it.

"You're almost more trouble than you're worth sometimes," said Harry to his ring as he slipped it on his finger.

"I could say the same thing about you," said a deep, raspy voice.

Harry spun around. A man in a tattered black dress stared at him with sunken eyes. He held a . . . stick? Harry stumbled back, one foot sinking into the stream.

"Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!" yelled Harry.

"My, such language. And what a horrible accent! The Americas haven't done much for you boy, have they?" questioned the man.

Harry realized that the man had a strange accent. He thought it was British.

"What do you want?" repeated Harry. He had gotten his foot out of the water and was slowly trying to back away, but the strange man's back was to the dirt road. If he ran, Harry would have to go in the opposite direction, back into the woods. The man matched his small steps, coming closer.

"I want you," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Harry had to strain to hear.

"What?" Harry asked, startled.

"I'm here for you, Harry Potter."

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Please REVIEW! PLEASE!!!!!

Anyway, any advice on college would help. Thanks for reading!

Until next time!


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: Hey there people! I'm back! I've been writing alot lately. Guess that's a good thing, eh?

**THANK YA'LL**! I really appreciate all the kind advice on college. I'm still kinda freaked, but getting better. : )

Oh ho ho! I tricked quite a few of you last chapter! HA HA HA! I'm so tickled with myself! Anyway, hope ya'll like this next chapter. If you just so happen to like it, you could, oh I don't know, review or something? Juuuust as suggestion . . . .

Oh. The views expressed by the characters in this story about a certain phone company reflect only the author's own opinion and frustrations of the phone company she uses. I don't own it. ATT's got that covered these days. Sooo, just don't sue or anything. Yeah. . .

Disclaimer Her: Same old, same old. I don't own anything recognizable except the unrecognizable.

And now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you the next installment of _Normal's Travesty_!

Drumroll, please.

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Chapter Six

"I'm here for you, Harry Potter!"

Silence greeted the strange man's announcement.

Harry stared.

What the fuck?

The man looked expectantly at him. It seemed as if he was waiting for a comment or something. Harry didn't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to something like that?

"Erm. Gee, that's nice and all, but my name's not Harry Potter, and I don't play for your team, if that's what you're trying to get at," said Harry.

Harry slowly inched back towards the stream. Looks like he'd have to make a break for it after all. He could easily run across the stream. It was pretty shallow in some places, and luckily it wouldn't be past his ankle at most. Being lost in the woods again was much more appealing than being molested by some weirdo in a dress. Maybe the guy was some asylum escapee?

The man looked confused for just a brief moment, but covered it up all the same with a grim smile.

"I'm not interested in you for those reasons, boy," said the man with a smirk. He looked around, as if looking for someone.

The man continued.

"I'm actually very surprised to have found you. It just goes to show that what you're looking for usually shows up when you aren't actively looking. I wouldn't have even known it was you at first, had I not seen you scar," said the man, almost conversationally.

His scar? Harry's hand involunarily reached up to feel the jaggad line just visible under his bangs.

"Where are those two buffoons?! I guess I'll have the honor of taking care of you myself. It seems to me that you aren't aware of your true parentage. I doubt you even know you're a wizard," said the man.

Harry regarded the man with disbelieving eyes. There were more weirdoes like him around? And was this guy trying to say he was a freaking wizard? That's ridiculous! There's no such thing as magic!

Harry tried to ignore the thoughts of his little sister and the strange letter.

And what was that about his parentage?

"Look buddy, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but I gotta go. I've got friends waiting on me, and if I'm not back soon, then they'll start looking for me," said Harry.

His foot was back in the stream again, and his muscles were tensed, ready to turn and run at a split second's notice. Thank God for adrenaline.

"But they won't find you, Harry. I've come to take you to my master, dead or alive. It doesn't really matter to me. I bet it wouldn' t even matter to my Lord so long as I bring you to him," said the man, a maniacal grin splitting his face.

Then the man got a faraway look in his eyes, like he was seeing something that Harry couldn't. His voice was back to a whisper, but got louder with each word.

"He will favor me far beyond any of those worms when I bring you to him. I will be his second in command. I will be given the respect and honor I deserve! I will be granted power beyond power because I have done what the whole of the wizarding world has failed to do! I have found The Boy Who Lived! The Boy Who Disappeared! And I will do what even my Lord has failed to do! I WILL KILL HARRY POTTER!"

The loud yell startled the birds from a nearby tree into flight. Harry was stunned at the man's proclamation, but the calls of the birds seem to spur him into action.

"LIKE HELL!" yelled Harry, turning and making a mad dash across the shallow stream, slipping on the mud, gaining his balance, flying over a deadened tree stump, and hurtling through a maze of trees.

He could hear the man crashing after him, but Harry was faster. He was easily outpacing the man. The man seemed to realize this too.

Suddenly, different colored lights started whizzing by his face. Harry distantly wondered if it was some sort of firework, but he didn't allow those thoughts to linger very long. He needed to get away from the mad man. Harry made sure to dodge the lights like he would a big sweaty guy in a football uniform trying to tackle him. The man was falling further behind. Harry was thinking he might actually out run this guy. He was sure the dress wasn't helping that dude run any faster either.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck wasn't smiling down on Harry Connor that day. Oh no. She was spitting on him.

Harry's foot snagged in an uplifted root, sending him down face first into the ground. Pain shot through his ankle, but he managed to keep any screams or yelps silent. Damn it! Did he just brake his ankle? Of all the lousy times to fuck up!

Harry pushed himself onto his elbows and belly crawled like hell under a bush. He tried to be quiet about it, but he hoped all the noise that strange man was making running after him would drown out Harry's own noises.

The man crashed through the bushes, right into Harry's sight, but amazingly kept on running. Harry didn't even dare breath until the sound of the man's flight was gone.

Harry gasped for breath, scrunching his eyes and grinding his teeth. He was in a veritable ocean of pain. He pulled his jeans leg up to assess the damage. His ankle was already swollen, and it seemed to slowly be turning colors. Without a shirt, the low hanging branches and thorns of the underbrush had torn shallow cuts all over his torso. Everything hurt.

Harry rolled over on his back, looking up through the bush stems and leaves. He felt something on his thigh. He just knew an ant was getting busy in his pants. With his luck the way it had been going lately, Harry had rolled on top of an ant hill.

Well. Wasn't this nice? Looked like this morning after was going to take the cake after all.

Harry pulled out his cell phone. Nope, no service. This was somehow not surprising. The phone company formerly known as Cingular wasn't very helpful in the woods. Hell, it wasn't very helpful anywhere most of the time. He should probably switch to a different phone company. If he survived this bullshit, he would.

Laying under a bush wasn't exactly the most exciting thing to do. Especially when your ankle hurts like hell and the least amount of pressure would make the tears swell up again. So, his movement limited for now, Harry tried to brainstorm on the highly unusual situation he found himself in.

He wondered about the strange man. How the hell did he find him in the woods? And he'd been looking for him for a long time? Maybe he was some sort of mental patient escapee, and when he had come upon Harry, he'd believed him to be someone else? What about the other two men, or women, that the guy had alluded was out in the woods? Was he delusional or were there really two others out to get Harry too?

Harry sighed. He'd never thought something like this would ever happen to him.

Harry's thoughts drifted to his friends and sister. Had they left like Cecilia had threatened, or were they searching the woods for him? He sure hoped they didn't meet psycho man and his pals.

Mom and Dad would freak out when they found out he was missing. They'd probably send out a search team to scour the woods. He'd seen things like that on TV. Most of the time they wouldn't find the victims alive. That might happen to him. Maybe they'd have to identify him by his dental records or something. Harry shivered at the thought. He pushed it out of his mind immediately.

And who was Harry Potter? That wacked out guy talked like he was this Potter fellow. Seemed pretty damned convinced too, especially because of his scar. He'd had it for as long as he could remember. He'd never even really quesioned where it came from. Maybe he should ask his parents. If he ever saw his parents again.

Was it just coincidence that the guy had gotten his first name right? Did he really know Harry? Maybe the weirdo had been spying on him and his friends earlier. The man had also said that his 'master' or 'lord' had tried to kill Harry before, and that Harry was a wizard. What the hell? And what was that about his parentage again?

Harry just sighed, wincing at his ankle. There were just too many questions, and no answers period.

It was starting to get hot now that the sun was rising higher. He was starting to get drowsy.

A thought suddenly pierced through the drowsiness. Did this whole ordeal have anything to do with Deek's strange behavior earlier? But as soon as the thought came, it was washed away in a peek of haziness and lethargy.

"I hope someone finds me before that murderous psychopath comes back. Or his friends," mumbled Harry to himself.

He lost the battle to keep his eyes open and fell asleep.

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Sirius, plainly put, loved being a dog. When he was a dog, human emotions were dulled to the point where it was like he was never a human to begin with. Life was just made easier. It had been a long time since his grief had overtaken him, but he'd still feel the melancholy pull once in a while.

Time had a way of healing wounds, but not all wounds would heal. Sure, they wouldn't hurt as much as time went by, but maybe that was because you got used to living with the pain. But there were sometimes when Sirius just wished that all the pain would go away. So turning into a dog helped. It was better than numbing his mind, whether it be with alcohol or drugs. It was better than not numbing his mind too. And it was certainly better than giving up altogether.

The rage towards Pettigrew helped to. It gave him purpose and focus. But anger was muted, like most other emotions, when he was Padfoot. He didn't mind. There was plenty of anger to be found as Sirius Black.

On the lighter side of things, it was true that being a dog was just simply a lot of fun. Yes, Sirius Black loved being a dog. Especially when he could chase things, whether it be a car, a cat, or even his own tail. On this day however, Sirius found something else to chase. In fact, he found a couple of things to chase.

He was on his way to the stream to check out the human smell, when a shuffling sound caught his attention. It was a rabbit, and boy was it a big one. Rabbit mushroom stew sounded pretty good. Almost as good as fish. So Sirius had given in to his baser instincts as a dog. He had taken off in the opposite direction of the stream, intent on the small furry animal scurrying away.

What he wasn't prepared for was another strange human scent smacking him in the nose. The rabbit took the dog's pause as a fortuitous chance of escape.

Sirius stood still, his heart beating madly from the chase, and sniffed. Instead of just one scent, there was two, maybe three together. However, it wasn't the same three scents that had been close to the stream. These were different, but once again one human smell stood out. He would have assumed them to be hunters otherwise.

The familiar scent seemed to pull much stronger on his memories than the last one had. It was as if this one was the scent of someone important. Or someone he had smelled often enough to be extremely familiar with at the very least. It wasn't a scent he had smelled since he had been out of Azkaban, so it couldn't be someone who was actively hunting him.

A near forgotten memory dredged its way to the forefront of his mind. Mashed carrots? He seemed to associate the scent with mashed carrots? Sirius shook his furry head with a small growl. His brain still wasn't functioning properly after that stint in Azkaban, now was it?

But Sirius was torn. Which scent should he investigate first? The extremely familiar scent seemed to itch at his curiosity more than the slightly familiar one, but the slightly familiar one was probably closer, but then again . . .

His mind made up, Sirius started after the scent he associated with mashed carrots.

Ten minutes of trotting later found Sirius in close proximity of the three humans. His dog hearing can come in handy in times like these. He was able to catch part of their conversation.

"Oh cool! 'Shrooms!"

Sirius was confused. Teenaged boys? What were they doing out in the middle of the woods?

A dark skinned boy with dreadlocks started stuffing mushrooms into his pocket after his excited announcement. There was another boy, fair skinned with black messy hair shaking his head at the boy with dreadlocks. The one with messy hair had his back to Sirius, and like the dreadlocked boy, he too was without a shirt.

A broad shouldered and much taller boy walked out from the woods into their makeshift camp, thus confirming the third human scent.

"Bush's free, if anyone's gotta go," said the large boy with dirty blond hair.

Sirius pinpointed the boy with messy hair as the one who's scent was so familiar. But that couldn't be right, could it? Judging from the looks of it, the boy would have had to been a toddler the last time Sirius had seen him. Might it have been one of the Order member's children? The only ones to have young children back then had been the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, and the Pott-

Sirius froze.

The boy took off into the woods where his large friend had just come from a few moments prior. Sirius followed, his heart fluttering and his stomach rolling.

Where in America had that blasted book said his godson was abandoned again?

Sirius crept around a bush, trying to get a better view. The boy was obviously doing his business on another plant. If he'd only just turn around! Sirius crept closer, and stepped on a twig. It snapped. The noise seemed much louder than it normally should have sounded.

The boy's pants were up in a flash, and he spun around to face whatever was behind him.

Their eyes met. Everything stopped. Sirius stared into clear emerald eyes. Lily's eyes. Harry's eyes.

Harry's eyes.

Sirius felt his mouth go dry.

The boy looked just like James. If his eyes were brown, they'd be twins. The boy even wore glasses. His hair was messy, black. The Potter hair.

But Sirius was entranced by those eyes. They had haunted his dreams for years, and now they were staring at him again. He stepped out of the bush, bewitched by those emerald eyes.

And just like that, the boy was gone, running back towards his camp. Sirius stepped back into the bush, moving away from the boy. Dare he think it? Harry? He needed to sit down.

Sirius was in shock. He distantly noted this. Even his dog form didn't do much to buffer the insane amount of stunned disbelief mixed with sheer relief and consequent joy he was feeling. He drew in a deep breath. Sirius could still smell _his_ scent. It was Harry's scent. Harry loved mashed carrots when he was little. He constantly seemed to have it stuck in his unruly hair. Harry was here.

It was _Harry's_ scent.

His godson was alive, and by the grace of Merlin, Sirius had found him.

He was back from the dead.

No, he hadn't even died.

Harry was alive.

And some part of Sirius was alive again too.

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Hoped that was a nice a chapter! You know where the button is. It's right there. Look. See it? Click it. CLICK IT! . . . I just felt like Madea from Diary of a Mad Black Woman. You know, when she's like, RIIIP IT!!!


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N: **Wow. Needless to say, it's been awhile. I seriously doubt I'll have any of my old readers, but maybe I can get some new ones, eh? On the bright side of things, I have more than one chapter to put up, so it won't be so long between updates anymore. :D

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**Chapter Seven**

Sirius had been following the boys for some time now. It was such a shock to have found Harry alive, that Sirius wasn't sure that is had completely sunk in. His godson, Harry for Merlin's sakes, was alive and just a few yards away! And he looked so much like James that on some level it physically hurt. His eyes were all Lily, and that kind of hurt too.

It was like looking into the faces of his two best friends, and he had a sudden urge to transform right then and there and beg for their forgiveness. But then common sense would break through, and Sirius would realize that this was Harry.

And even though Harry did deserve his apologies and pleas, he was smart enough to realize that he had to approach this situation cautiously. He would not be revealing himself until he had a firm grasp of the situation.

It looked like, for all intents and purposes, that Harry had been brought up a muggle. Otherwise, Sirius had a hard time believing that Harry and his two pals would be so utterly lost. Fortunately for them, they were on the right path to the stream, which would then lead them to the main road. From there, Sirius would play it by ear, but he would not let his godson out of his sight now. Not when he had just found him.

Something nagged at the back of his mind now. Everything that he had been preoccupied with earlier had flown from his mind with the shock of finding his godson alive. However, there was something that wouldn't leave Sirius in peace to observe his godson.

He took a deep breath, exasperated with the nagging feeling, and froze.

The other scent.

There was someone else in this forest that Sirius had come upon one time or another in his animagus form, otherwise he would not be able to recognize the scent. For the life of him, he could not place it, but considering that the only people he had been smelling these past years were Azkaban criminals, Death Eaters, the Ministry, and the Order, well, it wasn't a good sign.

If someone else was in this forest, that could only mean that either they were here for him or for Harry. Sirius would be damned if he would let any harm come to his godson. So, with a regretful glance at the head of messy black hair, Sirius followed his nose to where he could smell that other familiar scent.

He was just glad he had a wand on him, if it came down to a fight.

"Argh! That little bastard! We've been sitting here for twenty minutes already! It shouldn't be taking him this long to find that damned ring!" exclaimed Cecilia.

Rich shrugged. "Maybe he had to take a crap."

Cecilia glared at him. "Knowing Harry, that's probably what he's doing. And just to piss me off too."

Deek shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, shooting a look at Cecilia, who was mumbling under her breathe. He gazed again towards the woods.

"Hey Deek, are you okay?" asked Rich. He had noticed Deek's odd behavior.

"I'm okay." Deek didn't even spare Rich a glance, his eyes firmly fixed on the woods.

Another car passed by theirs, the force of it's speed gently rocking their car. Cecilia sighed and leaned her seat back.

"Hey! I'm sitting here!" yelped Rich.

"So? This is my car! And If I'm going to be forced to wait, then I'm getting comfortable!"

"Yeah, well you don't have to get so comfortable on my lap," grumbled Rich.

Cecilia, hearing Rich's disgruntled mutters, turned around and smacked him upside the head.

"Hey! What was that for!" he asked, trying to rub the sting out of his ear.

"That was for you being a pervert," she said calmly.

Rich just rolled his eyes.

"I think I'll go look for him," Deek spoke up suddenly.

"Deek, be cool man. I'm sure he really is shitting in the woods. He'll probably be back here in ten minutes tops, and then we can make fun of him for being bearish."

"Bearish?" asked Cecilia, turning around in her seat to regard the other two.

Rich nodded with a grin. "Yeah, bearish. Apparently when Harry was doing his business in a bush earlier, he saw a bear, and it attacked him."

Cecilia laughed. "And you didn't see this bear?'

"Naw, I'm sure he got spooked by a deer or something. I'm pretty sure there aren't any bears in these woods."

"You know, when Harry was little, Mom used to call him 'Harry Bear'," smirked Cecilia.

Rich's eyes lit up. "Oh man! Did you hear that Deek! If Harry thought he was ever going to live it down, there's no way in hell he will now!"

Deek didn't say anything, his thoughts obviously somewhere else, and his gaze still glued to the forest. Rich and Cecilia shared a look.

"Hey, Deek, if Harry isn't back in another ten minutes, then we'll go look for him. Don't worry so much," said Cecilia.

Deek let out a whoosh of air, as if he had been holding his breathe. "Yeah, that's fine."

Rich and Cecilia shared another look. This wasn't at all like their friend.

"Okay! That's it! I've had enough of waiting!" exclaimed Deek.

The other two inhabitants of the car jumped in surprise and Deek's loud proclamation. Deek threw open the back door to Cecilia's car and bolted towards the woods.

"Wha -"

"Geez! Something's up with him. Come on Dick. We can't have both of them lost in the woods," said Cecilia, opening her own door.

"Wait for - Hey! Don't call me Dick!"

Harry was asleep. He was pretty sure of it, and the dream he was in was rather curious. It was a dream that he hadn't dreamt of since he was in elementary school, he was sure, but all the same he was aware, on some deep level, that he was dreaming this odd dream again.

"Are you lost too?"

The figure flinched, holding up its hands as if expecting a physical blow, and huddled as far as it could between a trash can and the side of the brick building. Harry couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, but whoever it was seemed cold. The little body was racked with shivers.

"Here," said Harry. He gently wrapped the shivering figure in Dudley's old coat.

The figure was stock still, as if in shock, but it didn't say a word. Harry shrugged and continued walking down the long alleyway between two large brick buildings. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would probably be mad that he had given his coat away. They probably wouldn't let him have another one.

And so Harry continued looking for the hotel his relatives were staying at. Uncle Vernon would be very angry if he didn't make it back before nightfall. His uncle would usually leave him places like the grocery or the shoe store, and Harry always had to find his own way back home. It's just that here, he really didn't know this place as well as he did Little Whinging.

Harry blinked his eyes against the bright sun. He had been dreaming, but it was slowly slipping away. He tried to remember any details, and he was rewarded with an image of a very large coat and feeling cold. It had been very cold.

Harry groaned. If only it was cold now. The summer weather was not doing anything to help Harry's situation. He was hurt, sweaty, and utterly without a shirt on. This was something he realized when he felt a stick tearing at his bare flesh as he moved his back against the ground.

"Argh God! What the hell . . ."

He pulled out his cell phone. Although it had been acting funny earlier, it seemed fine now, and the time seemed to be right too.

"Ergh, nine. I'd still be asleep if I was home."

It was then that Harry suddenly realized how he had gotten in this situation. He slapped his hand across his mouth, wondering furiously how loud he had been. Surely not too loud? He strained his ears, but all he could hear was the sounds of the forest.

"Oh God," he whispered to himself. He was in some sort of teenage horror flick. There was a murderous psycho out there wanting to kill him. Harry felt like he was going to be ill. According to horror flick guidelines, his sister and friends were probably already dead too.

"Oh God."

A sudden noise made him almost cry out in surprise. He barely caught himself. Jesus, were those foot steps? Shit, shit, shit, shit! He was so dead! He was beyond dead! He wouldn't be able to fight, or run, or probably even scream! This sick fuck was going to kill him and he -

"Harry?"

His heart almost burst he was so scared, but as the voice registered in his mind, he couldn't help but welcome the waves of relief as they soothed his frazzled nerves.

"Oh my God! Deek? Is that you?"

The leaves and branches of his bush were pushed out of the way, and Harry had never been so happy to see the face of Deek Daniels.

"Harry! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Later! We have to get out of here now! Help me to the car!"

"Can you stand?" asked Deek, already dragging Harry out from the bush.

"Only one way to find out," he replied. Harry managed to make it to his feet, but every time he put so much as the littlest pressure on his injure foot, white hot pain would bloom behind his eyelids. He felt queasy.

Seeing his friend's pain, Deek threw Harry's arm around his shoulders, giving Harry the needed support, and they shuffled as fast as they possibly could back to the car.

Both Harry and Deek were panting for breath as they worked their way through the forest. Harry absently wondered why Deek wasn't demanding an explanation to Harry's admittedly odd behavior, but Harry had no intentions to explain himself now or to look the gift horse in the mouth.

He wasn't surprised that they ran into Rich and Cecilia, obviously looking for him too.

"Man Harry! What did you do to yourself?" asked Rich, taking in the two panting figures in front of him.

"N-no time! We ha-have to get to the car! Now!"

"Huh?" Rich scratched his head.

"Fine by me! I've been ready to leave for ages!" exclaimed Cecilia, throwing up her arms and turning back towards the car.

The scent had been jumping around, and it was driving Sirius crazy. Every time he'd think he was upon it, it would suddenly go cold.

And then, to Sirius's astonishment, the quarry in question literally ran right in front of him.

Sirius, still in his animagus form, blinked. Without further pause, he took off after the scent, which he now could see was a man in tattered dark wizarding robes. If he had to bet money, Sirius would bet it was Death Eater robes. That meant that Death Eaters were here, in America of all places, for some reason. And considering that Harry Potter was in the immediate area, it wasn't hard to figure out why.

Sirius growled. There was no way in hell that the mangy Death Eater would ever lay a finger on his godson!

With this thought in mind, Sirius tackled the man from behind, snarling and biting, his teeth ripping the flesh of whoever this Death Eater was. And just as suddenly, Sirius transformed into a man, laying a mighty punch to the Death Eater's head. The Death Eater was out cold.

Growling in a very animalistic way, Sirius dug into his coat and pulled out his wand - after all, it was silly to wear wizarding robes when he hid so much in the muggle world - and he stunned the man for good measure, along with a well placed Incarcerous.

This piece of Death Eater scum was going no where.

Sirius looked hard at the man's gaunt features, and with a shock of realization, knew who it was.

Barty Crouch Jr.

Sirius needed answers. He double checked the bonds on the Death Eater, making sure they were nice and tight. A quick search of the tattered robes revealed a wand, which Sirius pocketed. You could never have too many wands.

So, with a wave of Sirius' favored wand, Crouch eye's snapped open.

"Black," he snarled.

"Crouch," Sirius returned with just as much venom.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" Crouch glared.

"And why am I surprised to find you?" Sirius returned, his glare just as vicious.

Crouch smiled. It was a rather maniacal smile. It was obvious by his appearance that Azkaban had done a much worse number on the Death Eater than it ever had on Sirius.

"I thought you were dead. I remember the Aurors removing your rotting corpse," stated Sirius, his wand pointed at Crouch in case he decided to try something funny.

"Ah, yes, my dear mother. I'm afraid that was who you saw. The sweet dear traded places with me. She couldn't bear to see her poor son locked away."

Sirius made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. "And what are you doing here?"

Crouch laughed. "I'm here on vacation!"

Sirius snorted. "I highly doubt that. Why did you stinking master send you all the way to America? Surely he wasn't after little old me, hmm?"

Crouch gave a short, harsh laugh again. "Don't think so highly of yourself Black! I was sent on a much more important mission!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, taking in the crazed man's features.

"Once again, I highly doubt that. I sincerely disbelieve that Voldemort would ever send you on any kind of important mission. Maybe you were telling the truth. You'd more likely be here on vacation than on a mission."

The effect was instantaneous.

"You are wrong! The Dark Lord has entrusted me with capturing the Potter boy! I will be the most esteemed of all his servants! I will be his right hand man! I will be honored -"

"Yeah, yeah. I think I've found a flaw in your plan. Harry Potter's been dead for years. You're chasing after a ghost, Crouch!"

"No! You are wrong Black! Potter is alive! And I will bring him to my mast -"

"No, I think you're full of shit."

Crouch was getting angrier by the minute. Sirius was silently pleased with himself. If you wanted to get someone to talk without the aid of a potion, a bribe, or a little torture, you either had to bait them or get

them drunk. It was especially going well because of Crouch's unbalanced mental state. More often than not, if the person was really smart, baiting them wouldn't work.

"So, my Death Eater friend, how in the world could you track down a dead person? I really think you're pulling my leg. I mean, if Voldemort was going to send someone to fetch a dead boy, I'd think that my cousin Bellatrix would be more of a safe bet."

"Do not dare doubt me! I am ten times the Death Eater that foul bitch Bellatrix is!"

Sirius snorted. "Once again, I highly doubt that."

"My Lord has a connection to the Potter brat! He knows that the boy is still alive! And he sent me here to track him down!"

This made Sirius stop short. A connection? To Harry? His brain was working furiously. Could something else have happened that Halloween night?

"What kind of connection?" asked Sirius.

A new emotion crossed Crouch's face - confusion. He didn't say anything, just glared at Sirius.

Sirius mentally shrugged. He really didn't have time to dwell on it right now, and he was pretty sure that Crouch wasn't privy to the information anyway, or he was more privy to it than the rest of the Death Eaters but that was as far as his knowledge went. Sirius couldn't see Voldemort wanting many people to know that there was some sort of connection between himself and Harry Potter.

Sirius snorted. If so, the Dark Bastard shouldn't have told Crouch.

The important thing was that Voldemort knew Harry was alive, and Sirius didn't fool himself to think that this was the last Death Eater Voldemort was going to send. More than likely, if Voldemort knew that Crouch would have been successful in finding Harry, then he would have sent a few more Death Eaters along.

So Sirius took in the glaring, bound form of Barty Crouch Jr. He wasn't as opposed to killing him as he though he might have been, but Sirius wasn't a killer. Well, scratch that, he just wanted one person's blood on his hands. So this left Sirius in a conundrum. What to do with Crouch?

If it was at all possible, it would be nice to somehow leave him for the Order. No doubt they would interrogate him for information. But the Order was a long ways away.

A sudden idea struck him. Human transfiguration. Merlin, he hadn't done it in years. With his luck he'd probably royally fuck it up and Crouch too. But then Sirius shrugged. After all, there was not better practice target than a Death Eater after all.

And so Sirius was the proud owner of a newly transfigured cockroach, who he encased into an unbreakable transfigured jar.

For some reason, he thought it was highly appropriate.

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**A/N:** Well, ya'll know what to do! Just press that button and review!


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